Chapter 1: Black Card

That evening, I was trudging to my tutoring gig on a rickety shared bike, utterly drained from the thought of dealing with those little monsters. Halfway there, a voice called out from behind me:

“Hey! Girl on the bike!”

I blinked, pointing at myself. “Me?”

“Yeah, you. Come here.”

Confused, I slowly wheeled my bike over.

The guy pulled out a slick black card, his voice smooth and nonchalant. “Be my girlfriend. I’ll give you thirty grand a month.”

“Huh?”

He knit his brows, repeating with deliberate patience, “Be my girlfriend. Thirty grand every month. Last chance—yes or no?”

In my head, my brain instantly translated the entire sentence into: Blah blah… thirty grand for free… blah blah…

In under a second, I snatched the card from his fingers. “Yes, hubby!”

“Good girl.”

He gave a satisfied nod and draped an arm around my shoulders, shooting a cold, contemptuous glare at the girl standing across from us. “See that? Thirty grand is pocket change to me. But I’d rather throw it at a dog than spend another cent on you. You’re not worth it.”

My face stayed as smooth as a glass lake. Whatever. Thirty grand richer, he could call me a golden retriever for all I cared. Words couldn’t hurt my bank account.

“Pfft. Who are you trying to scare with a piece of plastic?”

That was the first time I actually looked at the girl. She was standing there with her arms crossed, exuding pure attitude. A sharp beauty, killer body, wearing an outfit so skimpy it made me feel cold just looking at it.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t in the mood to appreciate pretty girls. Only one thought was screaming in my mind: What if there’s no money on this card? Did I just waste a perfectly good ‘hubby’?

The guy suddenly pulled out his phone. “Open your Cash App.”

I instantly whipped out my ancient, barely surviving iPhone, pulling up my QR code while stealing a deeply grateful glance at the girl. Truly, women supporting women!

He tapped away on his screen. A second later, my phone buzzed:

[Transfer received: $30,000.00 at 7:46 PM.]

[Note: Personal gift.]

I almost burst into tears right then and there. Generous benefactors actually existed in the wild.

“Satisfied?” He held his screen out toward the girl.

Her face drained of all color, her lips trembling without a single word coming out.

“Remember this,” he sneered. “I dumped you.”

With that, he slipped his phone back into his pocket and walked away. After a few paces, he glanced over his shoulder. “What are you standing there for? Hurry up.”

“Coming, hubby!” I trotted after him like a dutiful puppy.

He walked straight to the campus gate and stopped beside a sleek, black Porsche Cayenne. Frowning, he looked down at me. “Where are you headed? I’ll drop you off.”

“I…”

I was about to name my student’s address to resume my noble duties as an educator. But the thought of the thirty grand sitting in my account dealt a swift, fatal blow to my work ethic. “Back to my dorm.”

“Fine.” He nodded. “There’s sixty grand in the card, plus the thirty I just sent—ninety grand total. For the next three months, you’re my girlfriend. Got a problem with that?”

I clutched the card to my chest as if it might sprout legs and run away. “No problem at all.”

(For ninety grand, I’d act like a waddling penguin if that’s what he wanted).

He pulled up his QR code. “Add me.”

I scanned it instantly, taking the initiative to set my nickname in his phone as: Your Girlfriend.

He accepted the request and shoved the phone back into his pocket. “Alright, that’s it for now. I’ll message you when I need you.”

He got into the Porsche and drove off.

I stood there frozen, watching the tail lights vanish into the distance, completely dazed. With my luck usually sitting at rock bottom, did this actually just happen?

My hands shook as I reopened my bank app to check the balance again: $30,121.50.

In that moment, it hit me… life was actually pretty great.

The second I got back to the dorm, I gleefully quit my tutoring job. Then I pulled up Google and searched: Latest financial scam methods 2026.

I read through every single article, scrolling through page after page, but couldn’t find a single scam where the con artist transfers thirty thousand dollars upfront. Talk about high-level professionalism!

I switched back to my banking app, staring at the balance, and then down at the card in my hand. That was when a terrifying realization hit me: He never gave me the PIN.

I opened our chat. His profile was totally blank—black avatar, empty bio, moments set to three days. I stared at the dark circle for a long time, plunging into deep thought.

I didn’t even know my wealthy boyfriend’s name.

After a fierce internal battle, I swallowed my pride and typed: Hey, boyfriend.

Half an hour passed before a single character popped up: ?

I typed back with the speed of a night-shift customer service rep: So… I think you forgot to give me the PIN for the card.

Another half-hour dragged by. Finally, a string of numbers appeared: 001223.

Right after came a four-second voice note, filled with blasting club music and chaotic background noise: “My birthday. Memorize it. I’m testing you later.”

I was tempted to reply, I won’t just memorize it, I’ll engrave it into my DNA, but figured that sounded a bit too brown-nosed. In the end, I just sent: Got it, accompanied by a cute cat sticker I hadn’t used in eight hundred years.

He didn’t reply.

I immediately bolted out to the campus ATM, my fingers trembling as I punched in the numbers to check the balance.

The screen lit up with crystalline clarity: $60,000.00.

Only then did my heart finally settle into my chest. I floated back to my room feeling like I’d just hit the jackpot. After a nice, long shower, I crawled into bed and drifted into a blissful sleep.

After all… when I opened my eyes tomorrow, I’d be a girl with ninety thousand dollars to her name.